Long Streak

I feel an onset of a new wave of depression coming along. This is either going to make me or break me. 

Everything is going well for me. I am making 103% of my salary band at work, being awarded “excellent performer” and probably looking at a promotion this year. 

I can’t stop thinking about my father. Random facebook comment phrase keeps ringing in my ears and mind : “the fate of brown people who can’t be turned in to a token”…. the fate of my father. 

Due to the circumstances he died in, his medical file is plastered all over the internet because he was catalogued as unidentified. I googled his name last night, to see his medical file. But i found a forum instead. 

A year and a half ago when i got news of his death, there were no comments on that forum. But last night was different. 

There was a thread of real people – exchanging ideas on how they could locate his loved ones. And one guy recognized my father from the streets. One man who saw my father at his worst. There is a man who remembers him. 

He pitied my father, hope his family is at rest now, and described my father as “VERY MENTAL” and having seen him almost every day at a spot he walked by for work in the morning. 

This one man is my last hope. I joined the forum and dropped him a message, commented on the forum and added him as a friend. I just want to talk to this man. You have no idea how much hearing back from this man means to me. It means the whole world. 

I suppose my mom was right. My father had to have been mentally ill to end up on the streets. 

A frenzy of google searches related to common psychological diseases amongst the homeless followed. My heart kept breaking and breaking in to a million slivers till I could take it no more. 

I cried myself to exhaustion and finally fell asleep at 5 am. I woke and checked gmail in a frenzy, hoping for notification from said man. Did he reply? Did he see my comment? When was said man last active? Does he think I am spamming him?

I would like to continue functioning in my life as if everything is normal. But who am I kidding. I can’t do this anymore. I am tired of pretending to cope when I am falling apart in to pieces at every step.

It’s enough to know your father died on the road with only one shoe, sweater and pants…and a whole other deal to know he was also very mentally ill while being forgotten by society. 

This is by far the biggest burden life has given me and I need to figure out how to live with this. 

Today in Adulting – Vol 1

The incompetent neighborhood post office emptied out my mailbox, put a vacancy notice in it (because I didn’t check mail for a week), and destroyed my unregistered mail which includes my Global Entry ID card. They returned my brand new passport to Arkansas – and it may as well be lost forever.

West Melbourne Water Bills have switched to a new system where you are required to enter a pin for your account # every time you pay your bill, except that pin cannot be changed or customized to something you can ACTUALLY remember, so if you’re like me and don’t have it tattooed on your right buttock, you have to call and ask them what it is – EVERY SINGLE TIME.

No news on my clearance from the govt, so I am mentally preparing to pay for a $300 Pakistani visa to go home this year, on a passport that the USPS does not want me to receive.

And then they wonder why people don’t stand up for the stupid national anthem.

Breaking Bad

I lost my bathing suit a couple months ago. As I planned a little getaway to Siesta Key this weekend, I ventured out to get a new one piece similar to my beautiful lost one but failed miserably. So I ended up doing the unthinkable; I got a two piece.

To my surprise it was actually not a bad fit at all and was very comfortable. I was also astonished at how not so awful I look in a two piece and it has dawned on me that years of psychological abuse over physical appearance from my mom, relatives and Pakistani friends can really make you subconsciously believe you’re hideous. 

This one’s for all the motherfuckers who fat shamed me in the past and will probably slut shame me in the future (that is if they don’t already). Cheers to overcoming psychological road blocks! 

Glass Ceiling

I don’t know of it’s “adulting” or just plain mental exhaustion, but I definitely feel I am a short brown girl always fighting off some force of the world. Life seems to be a constant struggle and I’m just a below average swimmer trying to stay afloat. 

While a lot of things have gone great recently, a lot of others have also gone wrong; and I am trying really hard to mentally process it but sometimes it’s too much to handle. 

Recently I got rejected by the University of Florida for their masters program. It makes me angry because I surpassed all their program requirements – GPA, GRE Score, etc. by a large margin. They told me my academic record is “problematic”. 

Those of you who have been following my blog for a long time know that my academic life was full of turmoil and struggle. I dropped out of college in my sophomore year. I was severely depressed, and not in a good place in my life. I worked hard during this time. I attended community college, sought help for my mental health, and was on medication for a long time. I returned and graduated within two years in top 20% of my class. I did well, better than anyone else. I was lucky I had help from a few close friends, and the resources to put myself through school. 

I know that when you have seen rock bottom, it always seems like an accomplishment to come out of that situation. It’s been a long time since I was in that place, but never have I ever felt apologetic. My academic record ended up being stellar and much better then almost every other person I knew in my program. 

In my eyes, overcoming adversity is a strong characteristic. A lot of the people who extended job offers to me before my graduation also shared my sentiment. 

So, when the University of Florida told me that my rough patch is their reason to reject me, my first emotion was anger. Then, I felt self-pity and self hate. Now, I am just heartbroken. 

I could go on and on of all the petty things that pile together and weigh on me and eat awat at my self-confidence and self-esteem, but what good has that done anyone right?

People say that sharing your troubles makes it better, but I don’t feel better. I feel like a self-centered dick hogging for attention from anyone who would be willing to listen. This is very ill suited to my personality. 

Socially Awkward

I worry a lot. Sometimes I worry about things I don’t usually bother about. And then when I can’t wrap my head around them, I realize why I decide to live without emphasizing on them. 
I always tell my friends – and they generally agree, that I am an acquired taste. Kind of like asparagus. 
I have never really bothered to be accepted fully by people, pleasing others has never been on my life agenda. However, there are always some people that you want on your good side whether you like them or not. That’s where life for people like me gets very difficult. 

I try and relate to people as much as I can, but sometimes the roadblock is just too big. This problem is very prominent in my relationships with women. I’m not very well versed in fashion, I definitely do not know proper etiquette of how to gossip about others. The biggest problem is that I can be very insensitive with my crude and blunt sense of humor. Basically – all the odds are stacked against me. 
I don’t know. 

Forging An Attitude

I have had a rough couple of weeks and sometimes things going on in my life consume my thoughts to such a degree that writing them out and arranging them in an array feels like an incredibly daunting task. 

I have seriously considered hiring a housekeeper. It’s not that I am incapable of cleaning or doing simple chores, but there are other things in my life that trump the desire to get down and dirty on my bathtub every Sunday. 

I have missed being in shape for a while now and I have finally taken some control back of how I want to get back in to physical activity. One of the biggest strides I have made is finally learning how to swim, and I am excited for the day I can finally swim strong. I have a problem with my kicking but a couple of people have been helping out with it. 

Truthfully as the days go by, I find myself becoming more and more of an introvert. I have faced certain people recently who dont seem to be very receptive or friendly towards me, and their behavior has seriously led me to deep thought. If you know me personally on any level, most likely you think I am a social butterfly. The truth is, I only open up in environments that are friendly. 

In a way, you can say that when my surroundings are positive, I flourish in social settings. Owing to the fact that my friends or people that I hang out with are generally fun loving and warm hearted, I have never actually considered the possibility that I am very introverted. 

But I have realized that the person I am interacting with pretty much dictates the relationship that I have with them. This is scary because it makes me feel that somewhere I may be socially incompetent. However, I do know that I would much rather continue being that way then try and forge an attitude that does not come naturally to me. 

Mysoginistic Asshole

I have never been a strong advocate of feminism or marriage, or both. I don’t even believe in gender disparity, or the institution of marriage and what people have made of it. However, deep down inside I do get a little mad when people weigh us women on a bent scale. It’s just not fair.

Some guy I met yesterday at a friends’ get together told us in so many words that he doesn’t believe in monogamy, and while I respect and even partially side with him on the fact that monogamy is not a natural instinct or very sustainable, his views didn’t come from a point of social evolution that dictated him to have a more fluid sexuality. He came from a very misogynistic place in life. The kind of place where he freaked out when I asked if he would be okay with introducing another man in his bedroom. “That shit is straight up gay” is what he said – yet somehow he expected his “main” female companion to be accepting of any “side” girls in the room. Well, isn’t that shit just straight up lesbian?? A female equivalent of him has every right to be appalled by being put in a situation where she is not really in to the girl, but has an obligation to be accepting of her due to her partners’ interests.

In my opinion the fashionable “open, non monogamous” relationship of our times is less of a celebration of acceptance and openness within our sexual lives and more of a gateway for men to indulge their lustful instincts on the moral dilemmas of the women they are with. I have met and known a fair share of couples in open relationships – and rarely have I seen an actual cohesive relationship at play. Most of the times the women are okay with other partners as long as they choose them… WHAAT? How is this giving your partner any freedom? All of the men are straight up uncomfortable and unaccepting of the possibility of their girlfriends dating or sleeping with other men, and in the cases they are willing to live with it – it is an aggressive stance where they don’t want to know, talk or pry about it.

I honestly believe that the man’s ego is very fragile. They can’t see their women enjoy the same privileges as them – not in life and no way in bed. So what’s the point? As a hetero female with a high sex drive, I would love to experiment beyond the world of two’s. If my partner suggests a threesome the first thing that pops in to my mind are two men and me. Yet, all these couples indulging in threesomes are almost always just introducing another girl in the bedroom.

Sex is modeled to cater to the man, the hell is he gonna do with two women. One woman on the other hand – is more than capable of handling two men at once, if you know what I mean. Not only does society put women on this pedestal of weak, soft emotional beings, but also ignores any possibility that the woman too has desires. What if she doesn’t want another woman in there, what if she just wants to fuck the shit out of two beefy tall men with good cock? Who are these “non monagamous” men to say that shit is straight up gay?

Fuck you all. The misogynistic asshole goes marriage is for women, men get nothing from it. He starts itemizing the list of things a woman is gifted once she gets married, while looking me straight in the eye. “Women get security, someone to take care of them, the opportunity to cater to our offspring (eye roll – nobody wants to procreate with that IQ)”…

And yes that makes me mad, because as a woman who has her shit together, pays her bills, lends other money and has everything going for her, this is straight up ludicrous. I don’t need your money, your bills or your sperm. I let my fury mellow in to my voice, I looked to him and said: “A man like you has nothing to give to a woman like me, except maybe an ounce of respect and love which is a strictly mutual feeling. What do women get out of marriage, or companionship? What do they get by having your children? Painful breasts, C-section scars, early onset of osteoporosis, post labor PTSD, and a lifelong sentence of misery.”

Women like me don’t need men. We choose to be with them because we want to – we don’t depend on them. We don’t need their money – we have our own. We like companionship as much as our companion does. That’s what brings us together. Not some elusive force of nature that forces us to copulate with every Tom Dick and Harry walking this earth. This shit makes me straight up furious. These are the men who end up with strippers, sitting outside planned parenthood and drooping down their shorts and forced in to asshole duty because alimony. So I am sorry your dick gets more blood flow than your brain does but a woman like me doesn’t want you – and never will.

Specs and Standards

I am in a dark place. I can’t describe how it feels, except it’s self destructive and I feel incredibly sad.

As people we associate so much of success with what we can acquire. We want to buy homes and cars and have children and a family and a great job, eat at good restaurants, go on luxury vacations.

I don’t know why I feel the way I feel. I just know that I feel like a failure. It’s totally my fault – I get carried away with ideas and find myself in a rut feeling like a piece of shit. I struggle accepting that my life caters to me in the best way possible. I still chase things that “MAY” make it better – but they don’t, they make me sad and upset.

Usually when I set out to do something – like buying a car or refinancing my student loans, I go in with a precedent that this is good for me… and I usually always succeed. I always find the best option for myself, the best deal and the thing that makes the most sense. This time I failed. I went on this path to buy a home and I didn’t end up with one.

I laid the ground work for it. I talked to my parents, made them agree to help me put some money down on it – which is a feat of its’ own. I got a credit report, estimated how much house I could afford using 10-15 calculators, shopped for insurance and looked in to common repair costs – I was thorough, and I was exhausted naturally…

And then I went to this seminar yesterday. New Grad Acclamations’ “How to Buy A House” and I realized that the kind of reliable, minimum maintenance home that is good for me is expensive. I can’t afford it. All I CAN afford are very old, overpriced homes that still need a lot of work. When I first started looking in to this my boyfriend assured me that getting things fixed isn’t that hard, that you can drive by Home Depot and pick up a couple of Mexicans and get the job done for cheap… and I took his word for it – until I realized I can’t do this on my own.

This makes me very angry… and I don’t know why I am so hard on myself, but I just am. I feel angry I set out to do something and didn’t get the answer I was looking for. Just like I always do, I start resenting the people close to me. I want to hide in a corner and not have anything to do with anyone. I don’t wanna see anyone, or talk.

I can’t explain how it feels to associate so much of your self worth with making the right moves in life. Seeing my father die on the footsteps of an abandoned lot only aggravated this mentality. I am scared of ending up with no money, no friends and no prospects. People are a result of their choices, and the ones I make today will define the rest of my entire life. That’s a big burden to live with and I think it is slowly eating away at me.

At this point I don’t know what to do. I was happy when I got this job – got a car I enjoy driving, started living on my own and traveling. I don’t know when all that started weighing less and the importance of acquiring homes, building equity and stashing cash became everything. I was a happy person living my life on my own terms, I have always been saving for retirement, making good investment choices, and I was certain that I am doing everything right… but now – I seemed to have lost that certainty. I am slowly being poisoned to be like everyone else, and living up to standards that I never cared about before.

Whatever it is, I am withdrawing from this arbitrary notion of success. At the end of the day, I am the only person in control of the choices I make, and I am not gonna try chase ideas that aren’t a good fit for me based on a whim. I guess that makes me a hard-headed bitch but I would much rather take that shade than allowing some pseudo standards tell me I haven’t yet earned the success in life that I happen to live with on a daily basis.

It’s all a farce, and I am paving my own path forward. I have always strongly believed in life that the people who wanna stick around do so despite everything. So, really though – what do I have to lose, right?

Day 2

The beauty of having a desk job is that at as long as you get your work done, nobody really cares as to what you’re doing on your machine (barring porn, of course!)

My manager isn’t in today – you know, obligations with kids and all… God it must SUCK to be a parent! So yeah I woke up on my own time and walked in to the office looking like one big hot mess. Fortunately for me I redeem myself with good work, at least I hope everyone else around me feels the same way about my work.

I can’t describe what it’s like to be fucking physically miserable and sipping on coffee to hush your body of the carb withdrawals it’s facing… It’s day 2 of my joint Keto venture with Mike and I am hurting real bad. It doesn’t help that Carlos – my friendly Salvadorian work husband – vividly described banana pancakes and gorditas while I was in his cube this morning. I just want to stuff my face with chicken jalapeno tamales.

The struggle is real – I don’t know if I should face my demons or hide from them.. but I have been thinking about some really awesome things that are loaded with carbs and I didn’t know where else to fantasize about them other than here.

I’m thinking about Lebanese shawarma.. delicious sizzling chicken with the perfect amount of crispy skin crust, loaded with thick creamy white garlic sauce, all wrapped in the paper thin pita – just enough to hold this magnificent creation together… and then a dash of half cooked, soggy and oily french fries… ahh potatoes, how I love thee… and 3 pieces of beautifully pickled green chilis, just enough to cut through the fatty goodness of the greasy chicken and garlic sauce…

Now I’m thinking about oily, spicy biryani… Long basmati rice colored yellow and white with little flecks of red chilli on their strands, sticking together yet still separate like petals of a rose, just enough grease to leave a film on the plate but not to create a pool at the bottom. A beautiful layer of clean white rice with perfectly simmered chicken in biryani masala on the bottom… little chunks of tomatoes clinging on tightly to the curves of the chicken “boti”… with tiny specks of amazing indian spices inside each crevice… corriander, cumin, turmeric, crushed fennel seeds, star anise, mace, nutmeg and a delicate touch of kewra… Oh God how wonderful!!

Moving on to crisp glazed naan right out of the tandoor. God I love garlic naan… Piping hot with just the right amount of ghee brushed on top.. crispy garlic flakes clinging on the top surface of the bread by a thread, replenished and rehydrated by the smear of ghee… piping hot inside with a delicate flaky center, and a crisp crunchy shell outside… drowning this morsel of naan in to a POOL of hot and spicy bowl of nihari… this perfectly stewed piece of beef shank falling off it’s bone in all glory… with a surrounding thickened stew of juices that came out of the shanks bone after simmering slowly for 12 hours… a little natural oil film on top of this all, and a sprinkle of amchoor and chat masala mix just to spice things up… a little thin sliver of julian cut ginger on this glorious morsel of naan and nihari…

I swear I can’t even….

Everything I know About Love

When you grow up things change. You learn to get a grip on reality, and you learn to take everything in life with a grain of salt. 

Things have been good to me in the past few months. Or should I say, I have been good to myself? I havent written about Mike here before, but he does exist. 

I have learned that when you grow up, life is less drama and more doing. It’s true I love this man from the depths of my heart, but this is a relationship of doing, not thinking. I enjoy doing things with him, and I never find myself fixating on what we have. 

Your mind – it is your best friend or your worst enemy. As my mother always taught me – an empty mind is home to disease. She couldnt be more right. There is a difference between acknowledging a legitimate issue and shredding every fucking iota of something apart. 

Life is unpredictable, and sometimes people are too. Sometimes you are caught in the middle. I wonder sometimes why people are miserable. What causes unhappiness? It’s because we can’t let go. We just fucking can’t let go. And the things we should have held on to – like our objectivity and sense of reasoning… We let go easily (hell, willingly!) 

So yes this brings me to the million dollar question. What is love? Hahaha

Love is friendship on fire. Love is trust. Love is giving a person the benefit of the doubt. Love is making the best of your time with someone knowing you’d probably won’t get a chance again. Love is being shamelessly honest with someone. Love is giving your best unconditionally. Love is being accepting of the high likelihood that you will be failed at some point. 

Love is a lot of things… But I am 26 years old and I have seen my fair share of grief and heartache in life … And I am here to tell you – love is a lot of great things. Love will bring you a lot of joy… But only if you have the heart to accept that love also fails you at certain points. Love isn’t perfect, and neither is the person you love. 

I opened my heart out to this shockingly obvious and statistically prominent truth about love, and I don’t recall ever being happier in my life. Things happen, people fuck up, plans fail, dreams are crushed. Life is not rosy, but it’s not all that bad either. When you are accepting of it’s short comings, you are more equipped to enjoy the beauty of it.

Oh and in case you were curious, here is the person I love.